


Anything You Want To Do

by kla1991



Series: The Farmhouse Series [3]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kla1991/pseuds/kla1991
Summary: “What could I do to make you want me so badly that we’re barely through your door before you start fucking me?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Am I getting worse at coming up with titles?

By the time they left the restaurant and started back towards the car, Helena had recovered from the shock and thrill of Myka’s attire—she’d expected they would both wear slacks and waistcoats in a formal setting, hadn’t anticipated the short, tight dress. Myka was still smug about Helena’s open staring.

  
“Anything you want to do now, love?” Helena asked.

  
Myka glanced sideways. Helena was watching her, and she chuckled when their eyes met.

  
“I see.”

  
They reached Myka’s car, and Myka swept her up, leaned her against the car and kissed her with gusto. When Myka just as suddenly pulled away and started walking to the driver’s side, Helena was too surprised to protest.

  
“Was that okay?” Myka questioned, walking backward in her heels so she could read Helena’s face.

  
She smirked when Helena nodded, her fingers against her lips. They settled into the car and rode in silence until they’d left the city limits behind.

  
“Does your enthusiasm mean you have specific plans?” Helena finally said.

  
Myka’s eyes were on the road, but the arc of Helena’s eyebrow and the quirk of her lips were visible at a glance.

  
“No, but I have a question.”

  
Helena turned toward her in the seat, but she waited. Myka flexed her hands on the steering wheel.

  
“What could I do to make you want me so badly that we’re barely through your door before you start fucking me?”

  
She heard Helena’s shuddering sigh, could almost see her slump against the door in her periphery.

  
“I want you so much, “ Myka panted, her ragged voice in sharp contrast to her smooth driving.

  
“Tell me how?” Helena asked.

  
“I want you to throw me against the wall, and not even bother to undress me. You can kiss me, grope me, whatever you like, but I want you to put your hand in my underwear and get your fingers inside me while you’re doing it. I want it hard, so hard you almost lift me off my feet when you thrust. I want to come so hard that my legs give out, and you shoving me into the wall and pushing inside of me is the only thing that’s holding me up. I wa—“

  
Helena groaned, clamping her hand down on Myka’s thigh. Myka reached down to stroke Helena’s white knuckles, then pried the hand loose and put it back in Helena’s lap.

  
“You asked for it,” she said. “Now you have to wait.”

  
The farmhouse was well out of the way, the porch light and the stars the only light for half a mile or more. There would be no one to see if Helena simply pulled Myka down onto the lawn, but the dampness of the grass discouraged her, and it wasn’t what Myka had asked for anyway. She contained herself well enough to not leap out of the car before Myka had put it in park, but she nearly dragged her away from the car and toward the side door of the house.

  
She pressed Myka into it, and Myka had certainly succeeded in her goal. Helena’s teeth were on her ear, her throat, her shoulder, and she refused to stop kissing and biting and sucking Myka’s skin while she fumbled the keys and unlocked the door. They staggered in, and it was Myka who remembered to shut the door—she grabbed the handle, and the momentum of Helena pushing her toward the wall swung it closed. Helena was already pushing Myka’s underwear aside, running her fingertips over the slickness of Myka’s vulva.

  
“Leave your shoes on,” Helena growled when she noticed Myka trying to toe them off. “I won’t have to reach down so far, which means I can go deeper.”

  
She proved the point by going as deep as she could with her fingers. Myka gasped, pulling Helena’s hair with one hand and fisting her crisp dress shirt with the other. Helena was already using her hip to add force to her thrusts. Myka kissed her, pressed her tongue into Helena’s mouth, but she threw her head back and moaned when Helena curled her fingers inside of her.

  
“Is this what you wanted, my darling?”

  
“Yes, god yes. Faster.”

  
“I adore you,” Helena said while she adjusted her stance.

  
She watched Myka’s eyes roll back when she drove frantically into her, trying to find a way to hit her clit as she went. Myka nearly shouted when Helena got it right, and Helena couldn’t bear not kissing her. The uneven lurch of Myka’s hips, Helena suspected, was making things a bit trickier, so she put her hand under Myka’s dress and pinned her hard against the wall. It was difficult to restrain her, and Helena laughed into Myka’s mouth.

  
“Perfect,” Myka ground out. “God, so… oh fuck, so good. You’re so—ah!”

  
Helena’s wrist was going to cramp soon, but she suspected it wouldn’t be a problem. The once-constant push of Myka’s hip against her hand was slowing, and Myka whined and clawed at Helena’s back. After a last choking breath, Myka buried her face in Helena’s shoulder and yelled. Every muscle in her body tightened, and Helena made sure she could support her when her legs started shaking, jerked, and then relaxed. She tried to hold herself up with her arms around Helena’s neck, but Helena leaned her against the wall, put her thigh between Myka’s legs, both to support her and to keep from removing all stimulation so suddenly. Myka rubbed herself weakly against Helena’s thigh, moaning still. Helena cupped her face, kissed her forehead and ran a hand through her hair to soothe her.

  
It was only a few steps to the kitchen table, but Myka was still shaky in her heels, and Helena was helping a bit too much, which made reaching the nearest chair and draping Myka into it harder than it should have been. Helena pulled another chair up close. The kitchen was quiet, with soft yellow light, and soft yellow linoleum under Helena’s boots and Myka’s now bare feet.

  
“I love you, too, by the way,” Myka said. “Or, adore, to use your word.”

  
Helena leaned down to pull off her boots, and Myka nudged her with her foot, asking, “What?”

  
“I ah,” Helena cleared her throat and flexed her toes on the cool floor. “I believe that.”

  
“You never have before?”

  
“I didn’t think you were lying, I just… after everything, it’s a bit much to take in.”

  
When Helena looked up from the floor, she did it slowly, gazing first at the tattoos on Myka’s ankles, the scrape on her knee from a tumble while on a case, the wrinkles in her beautiful dress. Her chest rose and fell heavily when she sighed, and she was looking at the ceiling, not at Helena.

  
“Yeah, I uh, I get that. This whole…” Myka gestured vaguely at the wall, grinning. “It’s nice to feel… wanted, like that. It’s reassuring.”

  
Helena laughed quietly. “I’m happy to reassure you any time, my dear, but you don’t need to fear that I lack interest.”

  
“I love you.”

  
“And I love you.”

  
They leaned toward each other at the same moment, fingers entwining as they kissed.

  
“So,” Myka whispered against Helena’s lips, “was there anything you wanted to do now?”


End file.
